


Just Trust Me

by lakeshark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ADHD!Lance, Alternate Universe, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alternating, Paranormal, detective!Lance, prose heavy and humor heavy aka my brand, technically half vampire thats important, vampire!keith, werewolf!lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakeshark/pseuds/lakeshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Gee, why wouldn't anyone willingly volunteer to house strangers who transform into wolves but can’t control it yet?” Keith replied sarcastically. There was a long pause where he could practically hear Shiro pouting. He sighed deeply, “Ok fine.” Keith really couldn't refuse the guy a favor if he tried. He just hoped that this wouldn’t end up drastically changing his lifestyle somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reordering

**Author's Note:**

> my shit brain: write a fic where lance gets to be the furry instead of keith  
> me: shit ok  
> So, rundown of species of everyone besides our main nerds real fast.  
> Shiro is a changeling so a fae that was basically traded in for a human. This basically creates a fae raised in human culture and he has whiplash about it all the time. Won't get too into it until later chapters though.  
> Pidge is a witch and a damn good one. I’ll be using she/her pronouns.  
> Hunk is half cyclops. He’s very lucky to have no eye problems and have inherited the brilliant intelligence instead. He’s on a full ride scholarship at a school that specializes in engineering. Often struggles with thoughts of being paranormal enough.  
> Allura and Coran are elves who are distant cousins of fae. A lot of them went extinct before the paranormal started hiding in plain sight.

Keith wasn't a fan of having neighbors. He liked living in the woods with his own company most of the time. He liked having a small cabin to himself. He liked the smell of the forest in the morning while he cooked his breakfast and made his coffee. He liked relaxing for hours at a time in the nearby lake during the summer. Most of all, he liked the lack of pressure to standard social convention. Living twenty minutes from the nearest town and an hour from the nearest city meant that he and other people had to make plans to get together. 

This worked for him. Most of the time.

To pay for his outrageously nice lifestyle in the woods, Keith self-employed as a pilot. He would do pretty much any job as long as it was legal. However, while being a private pilot paid more than enough for his lifestyle, it didn't really fulfill a sense of purpose in him. He wasn’t that rich by a long shot but he had more than enough to live comfortably. If anything, he kinda felt like a sim who’s creator just typed in ‘motherlode’ like ten times. Leading to the dull inevitability of boredom because what problem couldn't be solved with money in that game? Heck, what problem couldn’t be solved with money in real life? Very few, that’s for sure. 

Keith didn't necessarily want to give back to society. But, if he could be there for maybe one person at a time that would be fine by him. He didn’t say anything about it for a long time but the emotion continued to eat at his resolve. He expressed these feelings to Shiro over the phone during an especially severe bout of boredom and some other negative feelings he’d had trouble identifying. Shiro, being the dad friend, suggested he volunteer for SINS or Supernaturals for Integrating New Supernaturals. (The name was a bit of a fuck you to certain religions that persecuted them before supernaturals started hiding in plain sight.) Keith had been skeptical for two reasons. One, Shiro worked for SINS so he might just be trying to get him to be more social while keeping an eye on him. Two, Keith was a dhampir, a half vampire. 

He didn’t really see himself as fitting perfectly in either world. His human half made him smell just enough like food to vampires that finding a clan would be ill-advised. On the other side of the coin, humans didn’t _always_ smell like food. His need for blood was much less than a full vampire. Keith could even get enough sustenance from regular food that he only needed blood once a month or so.But, that didn’t mean he could handle crowds well on a days leading up to when he was thirsty.

“…I don’t really see me being a good fit to show new vampires the ropes.” Keith had told Shiro.

Shiro chuckled, “No, probably not. I was thinking werewolves.”

Keith had been silent for a long while, “Werewolves?”

“Yep!”

“You have five minutes to convince me.”

Shiro explained, “Well, one, you live out in the woods. It’s basically the perfect environment for extremely anxious new werewolves to run around in if they can’t keep to their human forms. Bonus, it’s only you and some other supernatural folk out there so risk of exposure is super low. Two, you dhampirs have reduced venom concentrations in your fangs. The dosage you release doesn't knock out your prey but sends them into a relaxed blissed out state instead.”

“Thanks for reminding me why people keep offering me money to bite them,” Keith said dryly.

“Hang on, I wasn’t finished. New werewolves have the danger of possibly working themselves up so much that they have trouble shifting back to human form. A little bit of dhampir venom can go a long way in relaxing them so they don't hurt themselves,” Shiro paused, “Plus, you wouldn’t have to worry about blood supply for the month since it won’t go bad in your fridge.”

Keith had rolled his eyes, “I’ll stick to fridge blood, thanks.”

“Come on, Keith, pleeeeaasee?” Shiro whined, “Dhampirs are pretty rare, much less willing to volunteer for SINS.”

“Gee, why wouldn't anyone willingly volunteer to house strangers who transform into wolves but can’t control it yet?” Keith replied sarcastically. There was a long pause where he could practically hear Shiro pouting. He sighed deeply, “Ok fine.” Keith really couldn't refuse the guy a favor if he tried. He just hoped that this wouldn’t end up drastically changing his lifestyle somehow.

 

~~~~~

 

A few months later, in June, Shiro called him. It wasn’t unusual for him to call for a chat but Keith immediately had a feeling. Somehow, he knew that he was about to follow through on his impromptu werewolf home promise. Keith sighed while sitting heavily into the lawn chair on his back porch.

“Yeah?” He said as he picked up the phone. There was a small ruckus in the background as Shiro argued with someone. After a few seconds of shushing, Shiro coughed slightly into the receiver.

“So, that werewolf thing I mentioned a few months ago…?” Shiro started off awkwardly.

“I remember.”

“And I mentioned it would be a temporary one month long thing at most?”

Keith furrowed his brow, “Yeah…?”

“How willing are you to do me a huge favor?”

“…Oh hell no,” Keith growled, “You said one month at a time, Shiro.”

Shiro sighed dejectedly, “Look, you’d be doing Hunk a favor too.”

Keith frowned, “How so?” It was extremely out of character for Hunk to ask anything of anyone. He was usually the big softie who just wanted to take care of every single friend within his general radius.

“This new werewolf is a friend of his that he’s kept in touch with. One of his best friends in fact.” Another ruckus started on the end of the line, but they were more successful at stealing Shiro’s phone this time.

“Keith, it’s Hunk.” A deeper voice warbled fairly close to crying. Keith’s heart broke a little. Simultaneously, his anger demanded blood for whoever hurt Hunk.

Instead, he said gently, “Hey man, what’s wrong?”

Hunk started actually crying. Between his sobs, Keith was able to piece together that this friend of his had been attacked by a feral werewolf while walking his dog. He’d had no idea about the supernatural world previously and Hunk had to explain everything to him. His friend was terrified of attacking his family unintentionally and needs somewhere to go. But, Hunk lives in the city which he knows is bound to stress a new werewolf into shifting ALL THE TIME. Then, he started to blubber a little bit about how his friend can be annoying but he’s harmless and please Keith oh god he’s super scared and just needs to crash somewhere safe even if it’s your creepy woods cabin.

“Alright, Hunk take a deep breath, ok dude?” Keith interrupted, “I can barely keep up with you.”

There was the sound of a nose being blown. Shiro had probably given him a tissue. “I’m sorry, it’s just that Pidge is driving him up here and we’re running out of options. You’re the last option, actually.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Keith did his best to sound offended. But, the truth was Hunk was even more difficult to say no to than Shiro. Maybe it was because he never asked for anything unless he desperately needed the help. “So, how long would this friend be staying with me?”

“I’m not sure? He really needs a support group of other supernaturals right now. It would be definitely longer than a month though.”

Keith let out a long sigh, “Ok fine.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“Keith, you’re one of the bestest friends a guy could ask for you know that?” Hunk said tearily. Keith could hear Shiro in the background demanding his phone back.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. When will this friend of yours be arriving at my creepy woods cabin?”

“A couple hours maybe?”

“Also, what’s his name?”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“If you did, I didn’t hear it under your tearjerking accent.”

“Wow, rude,” Hunk scoffed fakely, “His name’s Lance.”

 

~~~~~

 

Keith spent those few hours cleaning. It wasn’t like he was that messy but his choices were either stress clean or stress while overthinking. However, living in a small cabin often meant that he could clean everything in about 45 minutes. Still antsy, he soon found himself cleaning all the windows on the inside and outside. It was actually a pretty good decision considering that the cabin had huge windows to bring in lots of natural light. He honestly couldn't remember when he’d last done the chore so the grime had really built up.

Just as he was finishing up, Keith heard the crunch of gravel as a car pulled onto his driveway. He turned to stare at the mouth of the tree tunnel that marked the beginning of the clearing that his cabin sat. Keith was attuned enough to the sounds of his environment that anything abnormal immediately caught his attention. The tree tunnel was actually lengthy enough that normal humans would never have been able to pick up sounds at the end of it like he could. It was impossible for anyone to approach his home without him hearing it. He didn’t really go advertising that to his friends. Something told him that the tunnel itself creeped them out enough as it was.

Soon, Pidge’s green corolla eased its way out of the tunnel to make its way down the rest of the driveway. She spotted him standing on the front porch and started waving rapidly with one hand. He lifted a hand to return the greeting while squinting at the figure in the passenger seat. Keith couldn’t make out any details besides short brown hair since his to-be guest was slouched far down in his seat. He couldn't tell if the action was sulking or sleeping. 

Pidge parked behind his beat up red pick up truck. She leaped out of her car while slamming the door behind her. Oddly enough, her passenger didn’t stir. Keith didn’t have any time to further question this as all ninety pounds of his friend barreled into him for a hug. He just barely managed to stay on his feet when the air was knocked out of him.

“Keith, it has been too long, ya know that?” Pidge said as she stepped back.

Keith sucked air back into his dying lungs, “Oh yeah?”

Pidge put her fists on her hips, “Yeah, wise ass! It’s been like three weeks since you invited the gang up for a weekend! Which is totally unlike you despite all your anti social tendencies!” She pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, “And don’t even think about saying ‘Uhhhh, it was work related’ I have the power of technology and magic telling me otherwise, ok?” 

Keith shrugged in response. There were two kinds of people in this world who could access personal information with the right level of skill: hackers and witches. Pidge was the rare third person who fell under both categories. Arguing with her that he hadn't been being a lazy piece of shit for the past three weeks would be as pointless as trying to teach a baby object permanence. He wouldn’t be surprised if she knew both what Netflix shows he’d been engrossed in and what nightmares plagued his subconscious. Pidge would be too polite to bring up the latter though.

Pidge huffed angrily in response for a brief second before giving him her signature shit-eating grin. “Well,” She said triumphantly, “you’ll be seeing all of us all the time relatively soon so I guess you’re shit out of luck.”

“What are you talking about?” Keith interrogated.

Pidge adjusted her glasses, “Sooooo, Shiro forgot to tell you then?” Keith gave her a blank look. “Of course he did. The thing is that new supernaturals,” She jerked a thumb towards her car, “are required by SINS to have access to an extensive support system at least once a week as they make adjustments in their lives. Shiro, Hunk, Allura, Coran, and I have signed on as that system.”

Keith blinked in horror, “Oh. Oh no.”

“That’s right,” Pidge grinned evilly, “We get to embarrass you in front of your house guest every weekend and its required by LAW!”

“So, half vampires do go to hell then?” Keith asked the sky.

Pidge punched his shoulder, “Probably, but enough fooling around I have a payload to drop off and then I’ll hightail it out of here until Saturday.”

“Oh, yeah. So, why isn’t he moving?” Keith strained to peer at the car.

“I knocked him out with a spell.”

“Why?”

“He tried to take control of my aux cord.”

“Oh.”

“Keith. It’s super rude to touch an aux cord without permission and I already had my playlist set up. It was his consciousness or my sanity.”

“I’m going to agree solely because you scare me sometimes.”

“Aw, how sweet!” Pidge said as she led him down towards the car, “Alright, before I wake him back up, he does come with a written guide courtesy of Shiro.”

Keith furrowed his brow, “Why?”

“Pretty sure its along the lines of How Not to Break New Werewolves or something,” she shrugged as she tossed him a book. He looked down at the title to see ‘ _Handling Lycanthropy_ ’ by some guy he’d never heard of. Well, she wasn’t far off.

“I’ll sit down and read it when I have the chance, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s if chatty here gives you that chance,” Pidge snorted. Then, she opened the driver’s door of her car to lean into it. She snapped her fingers vigorously at her passenger, “Hey, rise and shine, sleeping beauty. We made it to the boonies.” 

There was a groan as the slouched figure began to sit up. “Wow, that was the quickest car ride ever,” A sleepy voice croaked, “Wait, I fell asleep?”

“Yeah, you conked right out an hour in,” Pidge lied while giving Keith a look that said: ‘You are an accomplice whether you like it or not’. Keith mimed zipping his lips to seal the blood pact.

“That’s so weird,” the figure said as he grabbed the backpack from the backseat, “I haven’t taken a nap since I was four.”

“Truly, a mystery for the ages,” Pidge deadpanned, “Let me pop the trunk for you.”

The passenger door opened and Keith’s mystery guest finally stepped out into the sunlight where he could see him. Keith’s first impression of Lance was that he was skinny but in a way that was more about body type rather than malnourishment. His tanned arms did have a bit of wiry muscle to them that left Keith wondering he was a runner or a swimmer. A very small voice in the back of his mind briefly wondered if there was more muscle under Lance’s loose t-shirt before he silenced it. Gay thoughts for someone you were sheltering was probably frowned upon in SINS. So, he forced his gaze to look at Lance’s face instead. His brown hair was cropped short and stuck out at odd angles. Keith wasn't sure if this was stylistic or from sleeping in a slouched position. His face itself was long and narrow but not overly so. 

Keith started a little when he saw one of Lance’s eyebrows raised coyly above the aviators on his face. His slight reaction brought a smirk to the guy’s face. Keith frowned in response because smirking never went well with first meetings. “Like what you see?” Lance asked him. Keith scowled. Well, there went any semblance of a good mood that he’d had. Of course, Hunk’s friend that desperately needed his help would also be a flirt that happened to catch him staring. Fantastic start, Keith. 

Lance only laughed at his response, not seeming put off. Maybe he just liked to see reactions? Then, he moved towards the trunk to help Pidge with a huge blue suitcase. Keith felt the beginnings of a keen hatred for his situation in the pit of his stomach. He took a deep breath to remind himself that regardless of personal feelings he had to make sure Lance came to terms with his werewolf problem. It only helped until he thought of the uncertainty of how long Lance would be here.

Pidge’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “Anyway, Keith, I gotta hit the road to make it back to the city before it gets too late. So, get along, play nice, and don't murder each other or whatever. The rest of us will be by Friday night or Saturday morning depending on Shiro’s dastardly dad plans.” She threw her arms around Keith for one more hug. Under her breath so Lance couldn't hear, she breathed, “Seriously, don't kill him. Think of how sad Hunk would be every time you have the urge.” Then, she released him, hopped in her car, and waved as she took off through the tree tunnel.

Keith wondered if he thought ‘traitor’ hard enough at her retreating vehicle that she would receive it and the Star Wars reference alone would be enough for her to laugh so hard to crash into a tree. That way Pidge would be forced to stay and help him deal with this.

‘This’ had the decency to at least look a little awkward now that he’d been left alone with Keith. It dawned on him that he’d yet to say one word to Lance at all. But, before he could consider what to say, Lance stiffly stuck his hand out towards him, “Hi, I’m Lance. Thanks for having me, it’s nice to meet you.” The words poured out in an almost panicked rush.

“Keith,” He said indifferently while giving Lance’s outstretched hand a light squeeze. He could already tell they were about to plunge back into awkward silence so he added, “Let me show you the guest room.”

Much to his horror, Lance pointed double pistols at him, “You can show me any room any time.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Keith couldn’t stop the response or the slight blush spreading across his face. Lance only cackled, rapidly becoming less awkward by the second. It was if shitty pickup lines were fueling his power like Horcruxes powered Voldemort. Keith turned on his heel to stomp towards his cabin. He couldn't believe he’d disrupted his sanctuary away from the world to help out _this guy_. Something told him that the shitty pick up lines would never stop. Welcome to Gay Hell, Keith told himself.

With Lance trailing behind him, Keith yanked open the front sliding door to mockingly hold it open for his guest. Lance only smiled while genuinely thanking Keith before sauntering past him. Keith fumed silently as he followed. They trekked through his kitchen towards the living room. Lance loudly complimented it while promising to make him food like at home. “I hope you like spicy food because my mama only taught me how to make it muy picante,” Lance winked. Keith didn’t know any Spanish but he figured it was safe to assume that there was an innuendo in that word. He couldn't really be sure though.

“Yeah, sure,” Keith grumbled as he pushed past him to get the living room. This room was where Keith spent the majority of his time when he wasn’t outside. It was actually a dining room and living room combination if he got specific. The table that made up the eating area was close to the kitchen. It had six seats but could be extended to fit eight comfortably. On the opposite side to the kitchen, another sliding glass door led out to the backyard towards the lakeside.

This addition led to the living room itself to be a little cramped. Keith didn’t really find a problem with this usually. The center piece of the room was the large stone fireplace set into one wall. The mantle was decorated with photos of his friends, scenery photos he'd snapped, and cool rocks that he’d found. Directly across on the other wall was an overstuffed rust red couch that sat under the windows. Between them, a nice oak coffee table rested heavily. Next to it, there was a matching overstuffed armchair. The tv was situated so that it could easily be seen while laying down on the couch. 

“Kinda cramped in here, isn’t it?” Lance commented lightly.

“I live alone usually so no.”

“Usually? You ain’t hiding anyone from me are you?”

Keith deadpanned, “Trust me, I would've brought them out a long time ago if they existed. Just to make this ten times more awkward than it already is.” He approached the hallway to the right of the tv. “Alright, directly to the right is the guest room you’ll be using. It’s smaller than the other one so I don’t make people share it. It’s highly coveted by my friends so lord it over them on the weekends.” Lance broke out in a grin at that. “I’ll be across the hall if you need anything at night,” Keith glared as Lance began to open his mouth, “that ISN’T a sexual favor.”

Lance removed his aviators, “Cuddling emergency, then?” For about five seconds, Keith almost forgot to respond. He couldn't believe this. Lance’s right eye was blue while the left was light brown. This asshole had the audacity to have stunningly beautiful heterochromatic eyes in his home. A pettier voice also thought about how this kind of heterochromia was more common in dogs and how Lance now had lycanthropy. A third voice yelled not to stare because Lance had obviously used this shades eye reveal trick before so why give him the satisfaction.

“No,” Keith snapped, “The bathroom is the room at the end of the hall.”

Lance winked his blue eye at him, “Well, the offer stands on my end.” Then, he wandered into the guest room to unpack his things.

Keith stomped into his own room, stuck his face in the nearest pillow, and screamed as loudly as he dared.

 

~~~~~~~

 

It had started to rain outside. The drops pattered on the cabin’s window panes rhythmically. One of the sliding doors was cracked open slightly with the screen door keeping any insects out. The sound of rain hitting foliage slowly drifted through the quiet of the cabin. This combination of white noise was immensely soothing to Keith.

He was laid across the couch reading the book Pidge had given him. Keith figured he might as well learn everything he could about werewolves so he could have the tactical advantage. Maybe, if he was lucky, there was shut up switch. So far, he’d learned that the timing of when the new werewolf received the bite was critical. If it was a full moon, that was a full adjustment period for the body and the shift would proceed as normal. If not, like in Lance’s case, then the werewolf’s development period may speed up or they may go through a pseudo shift on their first full moon. Given some of the cringeworthy accounts he’d read so far, Keith really hoped Lance fell under the latter category. The first full moon was in two weeks which, given that Lance was bit two days ago, gave him about half the usual time period. Keith thought that wasn’t the absolute worst given that the author of the book confessed to going through everything in two days. But, he wasn’t Lance or a werewolf so what the fuck did he know?

It seemed that lycanthropy emerged in six stages: enhanced healing, increased appetite, heightened senses, growing pains, enhanced strength and speed, and shifting forms. More than likely, Lance was probably well into stage one because it was a response to healing the bite site. So, the good news was that Keith could probably throw Lance pretty far out of frustration and he wouldn’t die.

Finally, Lance finally emerged from the guest room. It had been well over an hour since he’d started unpacking. A mostly quiet hour with the occasional banging sound of Lance dropping something. Currently, Lance stood in the hallway entrance silently staring in Keith’s direction. Keith silently wondered how long he could lay there without responding. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance started looking around the cabin at the decor in a lost manner. One hand continuously rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. It was a bit pathetic to watch.

Keith looked directly at him with a raised eyebrow, “There a problem?” He rested the open book on his chest.

Lance jumped slightly before staring intently at him again. He seemed surprised that Keith had spoke first. “You ever watched Cutthroat Kitchen?” He burst out. Well, that was the last question he’d expected.

“…No.”

“We should watch Cutthroat Kitchen. It’s, like, the perfect bonding tv show?” Lance shrugged nervously, “It’s on Netflix. Pidge mentioned you have that.”

“What’s it about?”

“Ok, so you know Alton Brown?”

“The Good Eats guy?”

“Now imagine he went to the dark side.”

Keith gave him a skeptical look, “Impossible.”

Lance grinned evilly, “Since you don’t believe me now you have to watch it with me.”

“Fuck,” Keith deadpanned, “It sure is difficult to argue with that logic. But, I’m gonna throw a frozen pizza in the oven first.”

“We’re having pizza? Hell yeah!” Lance pumped the air with his fist while flinging himself into the nearest armchair.

Keith got up from the couch to walk towards the kitchen, “Who said I was sharing?”

Lance made an indignant noise, “What?! Well, what the hell else would I eat then? Some fucking acorns in the creepy woods? Or do I need to really get down to business with this werewolf thing and eat Bambi? It’s raining, Keith! Please feed me, I’m pretty sure my metabolism has been fucked up.” He proceeded to sorrowfully give Keith the worst puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen. Shit, did everything with this guy have to be an unintentional canine joke or pun?

Keith rolled his eyes at his guest’s dramatics as he set the oven temperature. Then, a horrible thought hit him. If Lance was going to around for an unspecified amount of time then wasn’t that closer to a roommate rather than a guest? No. All his roommates in pilot school had been terrible. The word itself was probably cursed; he had to come up with literally any other label. 

“Keith? Buddy? You’re not going to let me starve, right?” Perhaps freeloader would be the right word. But, the book read that said freeloader’s appetite was going to shoot up so maybe throwing in a second frozen pizza would be a good idea. 

About a half hour later, the pizzas would be done. But, they’d started watching Cutthroat Kitchen while they waited.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe he forgot bread for a BLT,” Keith said anxiously, “Oh my god, this is going to be the saddest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.”

Lance paused the show, “Yeah it is. Hang on, I’ll get the pizzas out of the oven.” Keith had been hearing his stomach growl from several feet away so he didn’t argue. Lance hollered from the kitchen, “I bet half a pizza that he’s gonna call it ‘deconstructed’ when he gets judged.”

Half a pizza was what Keith usually ended up eating anyway. So, letting the freeloader eat the other half wouldn’t be the end of the world. “Fine, the bets on,” Keith shouted back. In the meantime, he stared at the tv screen. He’d never seen such dramatic plot twists in regular television. Who knew he’d be so entertained by Alton Brown tormenting chefs in, what he could only assume, some sort of demented void realm? He glanced at Lance who was dancing ridiculously as he cut the pizza into slices. Well, MAYBE this made up for all the shitty pick up lines in the beginning. 

The chef did end up calling his ‘BLT’ deconstructed so Lance ended up with half of Keith’s pizza. It occurred to him that maybe Lance had already watched all of these. But, he found that he didn’t really particularly care enough to point it out. On the other hand, it contributed to what was going on on his floor.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I ate all that pizza,” Lance groaned, “I can’t believe that I don’t feel stuffed after eating that much my soul should literally be departing from my body.” He gave the ceiling a troubled look, “Just how much will my grocery bill go up?”

“Increased appetite is the second stage of development. Apparently, that one is supposed to level out after a first full moon?” Keith attempted comfortingly, “So, maybe not too bad?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Lance frowned deeply, “Listen, I’m heading off to bed.” Lance erased the troubled look off his face as he rose from the floor, “Don’t be afraid to join me.”

Keith shrieked, “What the hell? We bonded and you were turning out to be a decent person and now you’ve ruined it. Way to go, asshole.” Heat flooded his cheeks that he wasn’t sure was from embarrassment or anger.

Lance only winked as he cackled before heading off to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picante means spicy but it can also mean racy/risqué. So, Lance was making a bad innuendo. (I love Spanish ok. I’ve taken classes and one day I will be fluent dammit.)  
> God, my roommates and I watch so much Cutthroat Kitchen. Fun fact: My roomie once tweeted Alton Brown “Who hurt you?” and he replied with “Everyone”. So, tormenting the souls of chefs is probably what keeps him going. Idk. I need the next season though.
> 
> Dunno when the next chapter will be out since school starts soon.


	2. Absentminded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t really intend for this to become a Lance introspective chapter yet it did…well, whatever. I tried to incorporate symptoms of his ADHD wherever I could that made sense. Luckily, my own life makes a great reference point.
> 
> I’ve also upped the rating to mature for references and descriptions of gory homicide and possible future violence. No main characters will be killed. I’m not that cruel.  
> For reference, everyone is 18 and older. It just makes sense with the general levels of independence I’m giving to them all. Full List: Pidge=19. Hunk=23. Lance=22. Keith=21. Shiro=28. Allura=27. Coran=46.
> 
> My dudes, being an adult who does adult things is exhausting and cutting into my writing time. 0/10 do not recommend.

Lance woke up at 6 o’clock the next morning. It had been one of those nights where he’d drifted in and out of consciousness, not fully resting because his brain was on high alert. He was mad at himself for forgetting to bring his melatonin pills to help him fall asleep. If there was any point in his life that he especially needed them, it was now. Sleeping in a strange new place certainly didn’t help. It had been far too quiet to fall asleep until Keith turned on a box fan in the hallway an hour after Lance had gone to bed. Finally, with white noise present, he’d been able to at least doze.

  
He wasn’t used to how quiet it was in the woods in general. As far as he could tell, the nearest neighbor was at least a couple miles down the lakeshore. The smell of the woods seemed too fresh compared to the city smog he was used to. The cabin itself seemed too spacious compared to his cramped apartment. Plus, there was the whole New Roommate I Don’t Know Well Who is Not Pidge situation.

  
He wondered why exactly the quiet unsettled him so much. Perhaps, it was because he associated it with danger. Stillness in a city made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Activity, including at home, meant safety, warmth, and life. Silence meant the opposite to him.

  
There had been that tense silence in the night air when **he** had attacked him two days ago. He winced to himself as his hand automatically went to the scar on his shoulder. It still had the angry pink color of a new, recovering scar. Although, in his mind, it should’ve still been a grisly wound that needed hospital attention. Phantom pains seemed to have no trouble reminding him of this fact.

  
Lance was feeling fairly anxious needless to say. Mostly, it was tough to wrap his head around the fact that he’d almost died, been snatched up by supernatural social services (?), and sent to live in some strange (half?) vampire’s home. He didn’t even know the guy beyond that he’d watch Cutthroat Kitchen with him. Lance really would’ve given anything to have been able to stay home for at least a smidgen of familiarity. Then, he could've pretended in his own mind that the whole thing was just a big vacation and catch up on a tv show or two. But, that would’ve been counter productive.

  
Lance rolled over and groaned into his hands. None of these thoughts were helping him get back to anything even resembling sleep. Honestly, he felt more alert than Pidge after her third cup of coffee. A quick glance at his phone told him it was now ten minutes after six. He sat up on the side of his bed with a heavy sigh, allowing his feet to touch the cool floorboards.

  
The guest room was nice. It had one twin bed shoved in a corner, a dresser and closet for clothes, and a shelf with a small collection of books for the bored guest. The walls were painted a light blue; the decorations on them seemed to have some sort of nautical theme to them. But, like all guest rooms, it had that cold feeling to it that came with not having a regular occupant. To Lance, this felt like yet another form of silence. It really was a miracle that he’d managed to sleep at all.  
He could already feel the dark circles under his eyes. They had been a constant presence for the last two days. Normally, Lance would be absolutely mortified that he’d allowed them to mar the otherwise perfect skin on his face. His energy wasn’t really in it right now though. Tired might just have to be a look he learned to work at this point.

  
Floorboards creaked under his feet as he stood to head towards the bathroom. He cringed, hoping that Keith was a heavy sleeper. Lance tiptoed towards the open door across the hall, half expecting his host to be glowering at him. Instead, the queen bed in the corner was empty with its bedding unmade. Lance scrunched up his eyebrows in disbelief. What kind of crazy willingly got up at this time?

  
Curious, Lance eyed the rest of the room. Chest-high shelves were built into the the farthest wall. On them there was a decent collection of books, movies, pretty rocks, and framed photos. In the other corner, there was a desk that had a mess of office supplies strewn about it. Clothes and other miscellaneous items were piled upon a singular chair in another corner.

  
Most importantly, on the wall above the bed there hung a ‘I Want to Believe’ X Files poster. Lance stared at it. “How do I even react to a vampire blatantly believing in aliens when I didn’t even believe in this shit two days ago?” Lance muttered quietly to himself. Two days ago, he probably would've poked fun at Keith if he’d known him. Now, actual aliens could directly greet him and he’d respond with ‘oh yeah, same shit different flavor, nice to meet you’.

  
Lance walked down the hall towards the bathroom with a sense of twisted doubt. There was so much he didn’t know about this new world at all. He now understood that his friends, Hunk and Pidge, had always been part of it. Lance also knew that whenever he heard them talking about it in high school that their cover was D &D. All that time teasing them for being nerds would’ve been for nothing if they didn’t actually play D&D as well. But, it also was beginning to show him that they had friends he hadn’t know about at all because of that secret. The sentimentality that Keith showed by putting up group pictures on walls, shelves, and mantles wasn’t helping Lance’s thought process at all. Did he feel left out? Was he jealous? Begrudgingly understanding of their reasons? All of the above and it was kinda overwhelming as usual?

  
When he reached the bathroom, his eyes nearly bugged out of his skull as he immediately forgot what he was thinking about. Lance had expected a small bathroom with a tube-like corner shower given the size of the rest of the cabin. Instead, it looked like something out of a rich person’s home. The room itself was huge. There was a bathtub in the corner that looked large enough to fit two people. Opposite that, there was large corner shower with clear glass walls with power jets built into the walls.  
Fuck, Lance had thought Keith was attractive but he had nothing compared to this bathroom. Love at first sight was real. He touched the glass shower door to make sure it was real. “If you really love me, you’ll have the water tank to live up to my expectations, baby,” he whispered to it dreamily.

  
It took him a matter of milliseconds to run to get his hygiene products and a change of clothes before sprinting back to the bathroom of the gods. Lance practically phased out of his clothing to get into that shower. After a bit of fiddling, he soon had three different streams of water massaging his tired, aching body. He cranked the water temperature to almost scathing hot. Lance stood there for several long moments, head tilted back. He grinned widely because nothing in existence compared to how great this shower felt.

  
Nothing had felt right since that thing had bit him. Weirdly enough, he could almost feel his muscles involuntarily shifting around beneath his skin. It was unpleasant, alarming, and leaving him sore. The area around his new scar was the worst. Even stranger, the skin on it felt…hotter than the rest of his body? He found it absolutely terrifying even though he would never admit that to anyone.

  
The worst part was that he had an idea who inflicted this bullshit on him. He also knew why.

  
He’d specifically asked that this wasn’t mentioned to Keith because he didn’t want him to know he was probably being targeted. Well, not yet anyway. Every other safe house that Shiro had called had immediately said no when they were told Lance might still be in danger. Shiro had told him insistently several times that Keith wasn’t like that but Lance wanted to play it safe. That meant no mentioning what he knew, his job, and to throw off suspicion with a little impromptu flirting. That last bit may have been overkill. Pidge had been giving him disapproving looks the entire time.

  
It was fun though.

  
The truth was that Lance was a homicide detective. Granted, he was young. He’d only had the job for a little under a year since finishing up college and police academy training. But, he loved his job because it was so different from day to day. It was something he could just throw himself into and lose track of time. Several cases probably wouldn’t have gotten solved without him. He didn’t mean that in an arrogant way that was just what coworkers had happily told him when he’d helped out. Lance hadn’t been given his own case yet. But, there had been rumors floating around the office that it was only a matter of time given how much work he’d been putting into the serial murders case. He’d been so excited that he’d committed himself even more to helping solve it. Then, he’d found something.

  
The details of the case had been straight forward. The perpetrator stuck to a certain area, only struck once a month or so at night, and all the victims were gruesomely torn apart. Autopsy determined that it was likely that the damage was caused by a bear or another large animal. In fact, these attacks probably never would have been considered potential homicides if it wasn’t for two facts. One, the victims were never eaten, partially or otherwise, by the large animal. Two, the shredded bodies were meticulously rearranged back together. The wounds made him think of cracked phone screens. Instead of pieces of glass going everywhere, everything just seemed to stay in place. Everything except the large amounts of blood. It was a deeply unsettling scene to witness in person. Both Lance and the senior detective had vomited when they saw it for the first time.

  
Lance found that his own disgust was great motivation to bring this perp in as quickly as he could. He couldn’t remember pulling so many all nighters since college. The amount of databases alone that he’d dug through had probably taken five years off his life. But, in the end, he’d come up with enough information for a suspect. A certain man in the area had been spending extraordinary amounts of money on meat. The quantities suggested that there was the possibility of a large animal being fed. His truck was also tagged multiple times on traffic cams in the area shortly before the murders took place. Given the violent nature of the crimes, it wasn’t hard to convince the judge to give them a search warrant.

  
That was the start of how Lance tried to arrest Vlad Sendak. He realized now that he may have gotten tunnel vision with this case. Because of that, Lance had overlooked a huge detail. Sendak didn’t own any animals at all. At least, not on the property they were allowed to search. There wasn’t even any evidence of an animal anywhere in the truck. Either way, it was back to the drawing board for Lance with a miffed sense of failure and embarrassment.

  
They’d still been convinced Sendak was the killer. Something was unsettlingly depraved about him. Lance had interviewed him for well over twenty minutes but the only thing he could remember that wasn’t written down was thinking about his eyes. Lance was a firm believer in that the old proverb about eyes being windows to the soul. Sendak’s eyes were calculative, conceited, and made Lance’s skin crawl.

  
Nightly stakeouts leading up to the monthly cycle had seemed like the best way to move the investigation forward at the time. They took turns every night having an illicit affair with bad coffee and a pair of binoculars. It wasn’t really going anywhere but it had been organized. The cycle of murders actually broke that month. That was unsettling. It meant either the killer (Sendak) knew they were watching him or something had happened to him (Not Sendak). They voted to keep the stakeout going for another two weeks for the sake of being meticulous.

  
On Lance’s night, his partner for the night, Shay, had come down with food poisoning. It was the last night of the stakeout so he hadn’t really minded. Instead, he took her police dog to keep him company. He was a grizzled older German Shepard named Rover. Lance would probably be singing praises about that dog until the day he died. Heck, as soon as the old boy officially hit retirement age, Lance was gonna adopt him and feed him fancy steaks for the rest of his life. Or, at least, he would if his handler would let him which was unlikely. He’d make sure the steaks got to that dog somehow though.

  
During the stakeout, Lance had parked his car in one of the discreet spots on the street and settled in for a long night. The street was dark, quiet, and had a nice view of the half moon. Rover had laid down in the backseat with a bored huff. A cup of shitty coffee had already put him in the stakeout zone. He turned his radio onto a pop station at a quiet volume.

  
Then, the driver’s window had burst. Something big shoved its head in to sink its teeth into his left shoulder. The sharp scent of blood stung his nostrils. Lance had screamed in terror while desperately fumbling for his gun laying in the passenger seat. It should have been in his holster but he’d taken it out to load it and absentmindedly put it there after he was done. He cursed aloud with all the air in his lungs. Abruptly, the agonizing pressure in his shoulder was gone. His own ongoing screams were joined by a bellow of pain coming from his attacker. Lance had looked up to see Rover viciously biting at the thing’s face. He yelled encouragement at the canine while finally getting a grip on his pistol.

  
Rover had gotten a firm grip on the beast’s ear then ripped it clean off. The poor dog tumbled into the backseat, clearly not expecting to cause that much damage. Lance thought it had worked out just fine when he aimed and unloaded his entire clip into his attacker. The creature had merely grunted in inconvenience as the sound of the shots echoed. Then, it looked Lance straight in the eye. For the first time in his life, Lance felt that he understood what the definition of horror truly meant. To him, the meaning was Sendak’s eyes staring at him gleefully from the firm position of a huge wolf’s head while being unbothered by the amount of lead Lance had just unloaded into him. The last thing he could recall before blacking out was Sendak giving him a wide, toothy grin as blood seeped from a bullet hole in his skull.

  
Lance was pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden stabbing pain in his mouth. “Ok ouch, now what the fuck?” He said while touching his jaw. This drama known as his current, confusing existence was starting to become a boring trick. Sighing sufferingly, Lance finished washing the shampoo out of his hair before turning off the shower. (Oh, he would return to her though. Nothing could keep them apart forever.) He exited the shower to grab the towel he’d left folded neatly on the toilet seat. Lance used it to wipe the steam off the bathroom mirror before hanging it around his waist.

  
There was some blood around his mouth which was never a good sign. His gums were already starting to throb angrily where it tasted gross and metallic. His reflection looked like he really didn’t want to deal with this but it wasn’t going away anytime soon. He took a deep breath, “Okay, the morning is off to a faaaaantastic start. Cool.” Lance leaned towards the mirror slowly then lifted his lips into a grimace to look at his gums. He immediately froze as two of his teeth clinked noisily as they fell into the sink. A wicked pair of new fangs glinted menacingly at him from his upper jaw. Literally, his body had just decided less than a minute ago that this was the upgrade he needed.

  
“Fuck,” Lance whispered to himself, “I really am a werewolf. Fuck. Shit. Shitfuck.” He gripped the edge of the bathroom counter to hold himself up. Instead, he was staring at the teeth in the sink with quiet terror. Deep down, he’d been hoping that maybe his body was immune to lycanthropy somehow. That, maybe, all of this would blow over without repercussion. But, nope, now he had the scary ass wolf fangs to tear that fantasy to shreds. All of this was actually happening.

  
He forced his lungs to take in a shaky breath. Alright, he was royally screwed so it was time to put his hard earned detective skills to work to find a solution. The first thing he needed to figure out was what other surprises he could expect to show up. Keith had been reading a book on lycanthropy last night. Maybe he’d left it lying around in the living room so Lance could discreetly skim it for five minutes.

  
Okay, that was the start of a plan.

  
He raised his head to look back up at his reflection. Lance lifted his lips in a vicious mock snarl before making a farting noise. “Pfft, see you’re not all that scary,” He told himself. Lance furthered the ridiculous effect by sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes. He snorted at the ridiculousness of all of it. Getting too into it, he bared his fangs extra meanly while intending to say ‘grrr’ in a silly manner. Instead, a legitimate animalistic snarl ripped loudly out of his chest. He jumped back with a yell of surprise to land flat on his ass.

  
A hard thumping in his chest told him his heart had had quite enough of that for one day. He pulled a shaky hand through his wet hair, “Note to self: don’t do that.”  
Suddenly, his phone started blowing up with _Nanobots by They Might Be Giants_. He screeched quietly in his throat. Pidge’s ringtone.

  
He picked it up with a mock happy tone, “Hello, everything is fine and I’m not having a freakout. Please hold while Lance revels in all the chill he currently has a surplus of.”

  
“Bull. Shit.” Pidge said heatedly, “You haven’t sent me a meme in over twenty-four hours which means you haven’t been looking at memes because you’re stressed.”

  
“That’s because I haven’t really found any memes to relate to my current situation, Pidge,” He scoffed, “They’re being handmade with love. As soon as I get some sickass wolf claws, you’ll get the best rendition of the Arthur fist meme of all time. The text will say ‘when you accidentally become a werewolf and have to go live in a strange dude’s semi creepy cabin in the woods’.”

  
There was a moment of silence before, “Ok, what are you really upset about? Did you start going through werewolf puberty?”

  
“PIDGE,” Lance sputtered, “You can’t just ask people about their werewolf puberty and yes I did.”

  
“You doing ok?”

  
“No, it’s like middle school all over again except with more teeth and less confusion about my sexuality.”

  
“And less tests.”

  
“My nerves say otherwise.”

  
Pidge demanded, “Alright, alright, fill me in on exactly what happened.” Lance told her about the events of the last fifteen minutes. “Shit.”

  
“No, not shit, everything is fine right?” Lance laughed nervously.

  
“No!” She shouted, “It’s way too soon for you get those teeth. Lance, if you let yourself get too stressed out then your body will decide to shift on the full moon in two weeks instead of the one in a month!”

  
“And why is sooner a bad thing?”

  
“Because it’ll be more painful and possibly cause more damage!” She said irritatedly, “Look. Could you at least try to keep it together until Hunk and I visit this weekend?”

  
“If Hunk cooks this weekend I would do anything.”

  
He could hear Pidge rolling her eyes, “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

  
“I would literally do any questionable possibly illegal activity even though I serve the law. I would forsake the mistress of justice for a bite of Hunk’s cooking.”

  
“Don’t. Just. Chill, ok? I’ll check in again before the weekend alright?”

  
Lance reassured Pidge a few more times about his wellbeing before hanging up. He knew for a fact that she probably knew a lot more than she was letting on. He wasn’t exactly sure how being a witch played into Pidge’s ability to know everything at any given moment. It was probably a factor but he had more faith in her initial excuse. Lance needed to remember to pull his head out of his ass and start sending memes to his friends again.

  
As he started putting on clothes for the day, Lance glanced at the bathtub curiously. He stopped what he was doing to stare. His brain started making the ancient dialup phone noise from the 90s as he failed to process what he was seeing.

  
“Who the hell fills their huge, perfectly functional bathtub with plants?”  
~~~~~  
Before he headed towards the living room, Lance made a pit stop in his room for a few things. Most importantly, he slipped his pistol into a built-in holster in his compression shorts before dropping his shirt over it. The weapon was now loaded with silver bullets. He didn’t need a book to tell him that the myth was true since he’d burned his fingers a little on the tips while loading it. Ordering functioning silver-filled bullets off the internet while choosing overnight shipping had been far stranger. It also made him feel so much safer in his new state. Lance felt bad about feeling the need to have a concealed weapon on him at all times. At least, he was a professional who knew how to use it. There was no way Sendak was going to get the drop on him again.

  
Lance also made sure that his closet doors were slid shut. He’d pinned everything related to Sendak’s case to the back wall. If he kept learning more about the supernatural world then perhaps he could do something about it. His badge was also taped next to everything to give him motivation. Hopefully, the ‘collage’ was hidden enough in a private spot that Keith wouldn’t stumble across it. Sadly, the same could probably be said about the gun near his ass considering how terrible his flirting was.

  
With those two tasks settled, Lance silently wandered into the living room. He was actually quite good at being stealthy when he wanted to be. Sneaking past lots of bedroom doors to get a late night snack as an insomniac kid in a big family made good practice. Plus, he wanted to test how good Keith’s hearing was. It’d be pretty funny to walk up near (out of punching distance) him unnoticed and yell morning enthusiastically.

  
He stopped at the dead center of the living room first. Was he forgetting something? At any given moment, yes probably. But, somehow he knew it was specific and important. Lance stood there for a solid thirty seconds attempting to recall what it was. Fuck his ADHD brain. Absentmindedly, he ran his tongue over a fang.

  
RIGHT. The book. On werewolves. The werewolf book.

  
Lance glanced around the living room but he didn’t see the book anywhere. It also wasn’t under the newspaper on the table. Where did Keith get a newspaper in the middle of nowhere? Upon brief closer inspection, Lance realized that it was entirely paranormal current events. Not one of those weird conspiracy newspapers, it was just a normal newspaper that happened to be about people mostly hidden from the majority of the world. He made a note to start hoarding them to read later.

  
Looking up from the curiosity, Lance spotted the book on the corner of a kitchen counter. “Aha,” He said quietly to himself. As he made his way over to pick it up, he happened to glance to his left. Lance did a double take. Keith stood there staring at him while holding a tin of muffins in a pair of bright red oven mitts. He had that constipated, confused look on his face that he achieved by furrowing his eyebrows and frowning slightly. Well, so much for Lance’s sneaking mission.  
That wasn’t one of the three things that troubled him though.

  
First, Lance hadn’t sensed Keith’s presence in the house. He’d always possessed an odd sixth sense that told him someone was there before he walked into a room even if it was completely quiet. Maybe it had come from living with a large family? Regardless, it had proved to be invaluable for his job. Perhaps even saving his life once or twice. The fact that Keith just didn’t seem to register at all bothered him immensely. It made him feel snuck up on and he’d developed an avid dislike for that over the past few days.

  
Second, those muffins smelled fucking delicious. The tin that Keith had just pulled out of the oven was one of several. The scents of blueberry, chocolate, and pumpkin smacked him in the face. Lance could tell they were homemade due to the sheer amount of ingredients scattered across the counters and the lack of a prepackaged box with instructions. Worse, Keith had sprinkled the finished ones with fancy sugar crystals. Lance hadn’t seen anyone do that to muffins except for his abuela. It was cute on an illegal level and Lance would not stand for it. It also brought his appetite that he’d been ignoring running into the room like a group of excited dogs. Lance silently hated that he’d jumped to a dog metaphor.

  
The third thing was the worst but most important. “What the hell is up with that shirt?” Lance pointed an accusing finger at Keith’s chest. Emblazoned across it was a creepy, close up image of a sasquatch’s face with text below that read ‘BIGFOOT is REAL and he tried to SUCK my DICK’. It was the worst shirt he’d ever laid eyes on in his life simply because of what it implied. Aliens weren’t just as unknown to the paranormal world but so was fucking Bigfoot. By extension, that probably meant other cryptids were also still myths. Goddammit. He couldn’t believe he was living with a half-vampire conspiracy theorist.

  
Keith set his muffins on the stove as he glanced at his shirt, “What? Pidge got it for me.” Of course, she would be responsible for this. Pidge had always loved this sort of thing.

  
“It’s terrible,” Lance said instead.

  
Keith looked offended, “It is not! It’s hilarious, comfortable, and super soft because it’s tri-blend.” He stuck his elbow out towards Lance, “Feel.”

  
Lance was surprised enough by his response that he forgot to do any weird pick up lines. He felt his face heat up slightly against his will but chose to ignore it. Instead, he complied by reaching out to touch the sleeve of the hideous t-shirt. It _was_ incredibly soft. Lance didn’t even know that material could become this soft. He rubbed the warm cotton between his fingers in fascination.

  
“-nce?” Keith’s voice tuned into his ears.

  
Lance realized he’d zoned the fuck out, “What?”

  
“…Can I have my sleeve back before my other muffins burn…?” Keith gave him a concerned look. Lance dropped his hand from the accursedly soft shirt.

  
He put his hands behind his head in a mock relaxed manner, “Yeah, sure.” Keith turned away from him to crouch in front of the oven. Lance belatedly noticed that his hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. He felt his heart have a palpitation against his will. Chill, he told himself. He had enough to deal with. Developing an actual crush on his host was the last thing he needed. Keith stood back up to carefully place another muffin tin on the stove before turning the oven off. He glanced quickly at Lance a few times, almost nervously.

  
“So, um,” Keith pointed towards his chest, “is that where you got bit?”

  
Lance looked down in surprise towards his scar. Fuck, he’d been dumb enough to throw on a tank top without thinking. The scar was an angry reddish pink against his brown skin. It was summer and he wasn’t working so his brain had immediately gone into ‘suns out guns out’ mode. Ironically enough, that was the tank top he’d happened to drag out of his suitcase. He furrowed his eyebrows, “Yeah, it is.” He touched the marred skin self-consciously.

  
“…Does it hurt?” Keith asked as he passed Lance a warm muffin. Maybe he was trying to bribe him into talking. Blueberry did make a tempting offer.

  
“Sometimes. It just feels weird mostly,” Lance decided to be honest, “It’s the rest of my body that’s achey and killing me. Your amazing shower helped though.” He peeled the wrapper off the muffin before digging in. Keith followed his example with a chocolate chip muffin. “By the way, why are there so many plants in your bathtub?” He asked with his mouth still full, carefully sidestepping the conversation away from himself.

  
Keith swallowed his own bit of muffin, “They’re all Pidge’s plants. She coerced me into taking care of them while she’s at college and living in an apartment.” That made sense. Their apartment didn’t exactly have room for that many plants. Lance decided not to mention that Pidge still lined the windowsills with as many green things as she could.

  
“She’s got dirt on you too, huh?” Lance nodded sympathetically. Keith shrugged in response, like it was a law of the universe. It kinda was. Kinda like how any food Hunk touched was bound to be heavenly. Lance looked up from his muffin, “Hunk totally taught you how to make this recipe, didn’t he?”

  
“How the-,” Keith’s face got a few shades redder, “Who told you?!”

  
Lance snorted loudly, “I’ve eaten my best friend’s recipes long enough to recognize them by smell alone.” He dropped his jaw into his palm, “What’s wrong? It a big secret or something?”

  
Keith gazed carefully at the muffin in his hand, “I used to be really shit at cooking.” He looked up at Lance like he expected him to interrupt him. Lance simply stared at him curiously. Keith huffed out, “I was an orphan, ok? No, don’t start with any pity shit about it. It’s just a fact about my life ok?” Keith narrowed his eyes at Lance, who decided to keep his expression as neutral as possible, “Anyway, at some point, Shiro became a volunteer big brother figure for me. Probably around when I was 13? It would look good on his resume so he signed up because he wanted to do social work. I was the half-vampire problem child that was avoided but Shiro took one look at me and decided ‘Yep, I’m gonna help you’. I was so shitty to him at first but I couldn’t get rid of him so I guess he grew on me instead. He was super insistent on helping me turn my life around for the better so I gave up and gained a weird brother-dad. He also introduced me to friends around my age that weren’t terrified of me through his friend Matt.”

  
“Pidge’s older brother?”

  
Keith nodded as he sat on the counter, “That’s how I met Pidge and Hunk.”

  
Lance frowned, “How did we never meet then? I’m pretty sure I was friends with them at that point.” He was being a nosy investigator when he really shouldn’t be but curiosity killed the cat, not the dog, so fuck it.

  
“I wasn’t allowed to really interact with humans until they were sure I knew how to keep my, uh, need to drink blood under control,” Keith shrugged, “Pidge was deemed ok because witches blood actually burns vampires. Hunk was later brought in because he was half human and they wanted to see how I’d react to the ‘diluted’ version.” Keith rolled his eyes, “But, you sidetracked me to my life story, uh, back to the subject of cooking. Since I’m half human, I can get a majority of my nutrients just fine from regular food but I need to be smart about it. That way I can put more time between my, um, other meals. If I didn't learn to cook decently, then I’d be more dependent on the diet habits of a vampire for nutrients. Which isn’t bad, per se, but buying blood is expensive and orphans like me didn’t have money,” Keith glared at the cabinets, “Basically, they were afraid I’d start attacking humans to get that nutrition if I didn’t learn to cook. Nobody had succeeded in teaching me so far because either the teacher got frustrated or I did and it devolved into a pissing match every time,” His glare softened, “Then, Hunk told me how much he loved cooking and offered to teach me. I parroted back some bullshit an adult had told me about being an impossible student and he got so mad at me. Legit pissed off. He yelled in public that he thought that I could do anything if I put my mind to it. I was too shocked to argue with him, really. Then, he taught me to cook without yelling at me or pressuring me. It was just him enthusiastically telling me about food and I guess I just retained it,” Keith suddenly grinned, “It sure showed those asshole teachers when I suddenly could cook better than they could. Hunk and I also kinda never told Shiro or the others because we wanted to see how long it would take them to figure it out. It’s been seven or eight years though, so I don’t wanna break the record just in case they haven’t figured it out.”

  
Lance regarded Keith’s suddenly serious look and had a strong sensation of being in too deep already. Keith had easily told him some parts of his life story without blinking an eye. Meanwhile, Lance was carrying around a gun in his home and making crime collages in a closet like a paranoid asshole. The jabs of sudden guilt in his gut was overwhelming. But, he still couldn’t really bring himself to say anything about it. Instead, he promised with weak smile, “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” It was. It would fit in perfectly with the shelf of them that he was already keeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, Lance is a detective now. I didn’t originally start this story thinking that but I decided, yep, that’ll be an interesting enough plot to keep me writing.
> 
> For a small price of money, you too can own Keith’s shirt! I kinda want one, not gonna lie.
> 
> Maybe I’ll have the next chapter out around winter break? Along with more? Who knows college is unpredictable. I’m sure trying though.
> 
> All kudos and comments are loved and appreciated! (They also remind me to get to work on the next chapter, haha.)


	3. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is gay and suspicious, so nothing new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wily readers. You goddamned kind-hearted commentators. I’m not even much of a voltron fan anymore and you tricked me with your positive feedback into looking at this again. I was honestly baffled and brought it up with my best friend, who has read this. I was shocked to learn she was low-key mad I hadn’t updated in forever but didn’t wanna bother me cause life ya know, which is fair.  
> So, I guess with my college graduation on the horizon, I’ve decided to get back into this again.  
> Also, it’s been a long ass time. Give yourself time for a reread if possible.

Keith couldn’t help but feel a bit frustrated. No matter what conversation direction he tried he couldn’t seem to get Lance to talk about himself. Every time Keith casually prodded at the werewolf’s personal life, the boy would sneakily change the topic in a way that fit the conversation. Often, the subject changed to Keith or their shared friends. When that didn’t work Lance would use a horrible pick up line to bait Keith into getting mad at him. That sort of hook, line, and sinker approach was more effective than Keith cared to admit.

  
Who even was this guy?

  
He could always ask Hunk or Pidge for more details. They’d be happy to at least tell him basic stuff. But, that method felt too underhanded to him. Keith would really rather just find out on his own. Because if he was told directly, then they’d be friends by then, right? As much as he hated to admit it, the guy _was_ growing on him. The roundabout way could be saved for emergencies. It didn’t really matter to him. He had a gut feeling that Lance would reveal more about himself eventually.  
A huff of irritation left his lungs as he tossed his pajama pants into the corner of his room. Keith glanced down at his shirt. He hadn’t worn it to bed but he also didn’t wear it in public that often. But, it was just a grocery trip to town that he was planning to take Lance on. A wave of pettiness came over him as he decided to leave it on solely because Lance hated it.

  
Keith hummed to himself in approval as he pulled his favorite pair of black skinny jeans from under the bed. If his shirt was going to be objectively terrible then he might as well wear actual pants. Next, his worn pair of black combat boots were tugged roughly onto his feet, haphazardly laced. Was it a bit goth of him to wear all black in the summer? Sure. Did he care? No. A quick scan of the room soon had his keys and wallet located under a few papers on his desk. He pocketed both of them.  
Everything in order, Keith strolled to the doorway of the living room. Lance was lounging sideways in the armchair. One of his long legs was bouncing gently as he read Keith’s lycanthropy guide with intense focus. The freeloader had been at it for all morning since he’d finished gorging himself on breakfast. Keith was genuinely surprised by Lance’s reading speed. He was already more than halfway through the book while showing no intention of taking a break anytime soon. In fact, he barely seemed to notice his surroundings. The new werewolf hadn’t even twitched when Keith walked by to get to his room.

  
Keith found his eyes drawn to the scar on Lance’s shoulder again. It gave him chills to look at the angry raised skin. Living in the woods, Keith knew some basics about animal bites. Well, by experience alone he knew a thing or two about bites. He could tell from looking at it that the werewolf who’d inflicted it on him had done so with brutal violence. He couldn’t even see most of it because it presumably continued further down Lance’s chest and back to be hidden underneath his tank top. But, from what he could observe, the werewolf who’d bit Lance had probably attempted to tear him apart. The scar was uniform from gripping and tearing rather than showing the individual tooth marks of a quick bite. A panicked nip wasn’t uncommon if a werewolf was snuck up on. But, this didn’t look like that at all. This looked…purposeful.

  
Plus, no one had stepped forward to take responsibility. Most accidental bites lead to one guilty werewolf at least keeping in contact with the new werewolf if they weren’t able to show them the ropes themselves. There was a system set up so that the offender had to send compensation checks for a year while the new werewolf adjusted. The check that Keith had gotten this morning, to cover his increasing grocery bill, was directly from SINS rather than a specific person.

  
There was no doubt in Keith’s mind that whoever had bit Lance had intended it. He wasn’t entirely sure if Lance was aware of that or not. Keith found it difficult to read him due to his aloof personality. It was frustrating but he didn’t really expect a man who’d been violently attacked to open up right away. He had to get the freeloader to talk about it but patience was key. In the meantime, Keith figured the silver knife he was carrying would be a way to soothe his own paranoia. He scratched at a spot on his lower back that was under the knife’s hilt to discreetly check that it was hidden under his shirt. Keith hoped he was just being paranoid but he refused to be snuck up on either. He couldn’t seem to calm the feeling anyway due to two questions bouncing around his skull.

  
Why would someone supernatural attack Lance, of all humans, so viciously? On top of that, was he randomly selected or specifically targeted?

  
Lance’s eyes stopped at a point on a page while his brow furrowed slightly. Keith watched a slight flash of fear appear in his face before it was gone. Then, those weird, contrasting eyes continued their silent procession through the page as if nothing had disturbed them. Keith clenched a fist as his other hand thumbed at the hilt of his knife. Yeah, he’d rather be paranoid than dead.

  
“Hey,” Keith said as he dropped his hand to his side. Lance gave no indication that he’d heard him at all. He repeated himself a bit louder only to get the same result. His teeth gritted slightly as the freeloader continued to ignore him. Keith moved closer to the armchair. He inhaled deeply, “HEY!”

  
Lance jumped in his seat with a yelp, hands flailing to save the book in his hands from falling. A long string of curses followed until the startled guy managed to catch it between his hands with a clap. His head whipped around towards Keith with a violent force he hadn’t seen in Lance before. “Holy shit, don’t sneak up on me, jackass!” Lance bellowed furiously.

  
Keith was taken aback by his reaction but it was quickly replaced with aggravation. “I tried getting your attention without yelling but you didn’t answer, asshole!” Keith snapped back.

  
Shockingly, Lance let out an animalistic growl in response. It sent cold chills down Keith’s spine to hear the predatory sound nearby. Then, the sound was abruptly cut off as Lance slapped a hand over his own mouth. He gave Keith a wide-eyed look that said the reaction wasn’t intentional. Keith regarded him silently. He forced his hand to relax the two inches it had traveled towards his knife. It had been more out of reflex than any intention to actually use the blade. Old habits died hard.  
Eventually, Lance shifted himself so that his feet rested on the floor. “Sorry,” He breathed out between his fingers, “That started happening this morning.” His frantic reading suddenly made a lot more sense. He wanted to understand what was going to happen before it happened. Hopefully, the knowledge wouldn’t stress him out too much. But, it was probably better than having no clue.

  
Keith crossed his arms, “Anything else happen that I should know about?” Clearly hesitating, Lance moved his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. Keith sighed internally. Well, if the freeloader wasn’t going to spill it yet he wasn’t going to force him to. “Never mind,” He said as he leaned against the door frame, “that’s not what I was gonna ask anyways.”

  
Lance tilted his head, “What is it?”

  
The irony of a werewolf with heterochromia tilting his head curiously at him wasn’t lost on Keith. He yelled at his brain to stop with all the goddamn dog jokes before he accidentally voiced one. Somehow, he suspected that would lead to a physical fight and he really wouldn’t blame Lance for starting it. “I’m going to town to get groceries so you’re coming with,” Keith stated to force his brain onto a new topic.

  
“That’s not so much a question as it is a order,” Lance gave him an unimpressed look, “but I guess I’m curious to see the town so whatever.” His eyes casually slid over Keith with an almost interested expression. The freeloader raised an eyebrow, “Wait, why the fuck are you wearing all black in the middle of the summer?”

  
“Heat doesn’t really bother me because I used to live in a desert,” Keith shrugged, “Plus, my average body temperature is a lower than a human’s.”

  
“You look like you never left 2007.”

  
Keith rolled his eyes at the weak jab, motioning at Lance to follow him out to his truck. “That’s coming from a guy in a tank top that says ‘Suns out Guns out’.”

  
“Hey, shut up, its a classic.”

~~~~~~

It was more out of sentimental value than actual value that Keith repeatedly fixed up his old Ford pickup truck. The tin can had been with him since Shiro had first gifted it to him for his seventeenth birthday. It had been with him throughout a few homes, school, his first jobs, and several coats of cherry red paint. Underneath the nice paint job, it had a smattering of dents that hinted at its true age. Keith kept meaning to get them dinged out but he hadn't gotten around to it yet. Perhaps, he even had some secret affection for some of them. A good example being the slight ding in his bumper from teaching Pidge how to drive. (Shiro and Matt had been studying abroad at the time.)

  
The interior was shabbier. It had a cab that fit two and a half people at most. The grey leather seats were worn in spots, mostly in the driver’s seat. The steering wheel felt old yet also perfect in a way that only aged cars possessed. Simply holding that old steering wheel gave him a sense of comfort and freedom. Taking road trips in his truck with a friend was one of his favorite past times. The only upgrades he’d ever added to the relic was the inclusion of air conditioning and a brand new radio. The air conditioning had been more for his friends’ benefit rather than his own or they’d never go anywhere with him.

  
Could he afford another vehicle? One that didn’t have trouble starting on the coldest winter days? Or one that had seats that didn’t absorb the burning heat of the sun during the summer? Something that had far superior gas mileage? Sure he could. But, this truck was his child. Keith was damn determined to not give up on his baby until it literally couldn’t move another inch.

  
Which was why he was immediately irritated when Lance decided to put his feet on the dashboard halfway to town. Keith instantly reached over and smacked him hard on the knee. The werewolf huffed but put his flip-flop clad feet back on the floor where they belonged. Keith pressed his lips together as he glared out of the corner of his eye. Rock music on the radio played softly in the background. He turned it up a notch in his irritation.

  
Before they had left, Lance had grabbed Keith’s black jean vest and thrown it on himself. He hadn’t protested beyond a ‘Really?’ for two reasons. One, he was sure that Lance had grabbed it to cover what could be seen of his scar. Two, he could admit that Lance looked pretty damn good in it. No doubt it was probably in borderline dangerous territory to have someone he had a minuscule crush on to walk around wearing his shit. It also didn’t help that he could occasionally feel Lance outright staring at him for whatever reason. Was he trying to rile Keith up again? Well, too bad, it wasn’t gonna happen while he was driving.

  
Five minutes later, Lance had situated himself so that his feet rested on the middle seat with his back leaned against the passenger door. This left him directly facing Keith, switching from looking at his phone to the driver. How he was comfortable with the seatbelt twisted like that was beyond understanding. Keith shifted his fingers around on the well-loved steering wheel. He fruitlessly attempted to admire the calming scenery of the forest passing by. He tried mentally going through his list of different types of knives.

  
“Alright, what the hell are you looking at?” Keith said, “Is there something on my face or what?”

  
He honestly expected a lame pickup line. So, it caught him off guard when Lance said, “Nothing, um, don’t get mad but I was trying to find signs that you’re a half-vampire rather than human?”

  
Keith gave him a look of surprise, “Why?”

  
He shrugged, “Morbid curiosity?” Well, fair enough, considering his situation.

  
“First of all, the term for a half-vampire is dhampir,” Keith said as he pushed some of his thick hair away from his ear to reveal that it was slightly pointed. Lance leaned in for a closer look, instantaneously abandoning his seat belt. Keith did his best not to jump at the sudden feeling of warm breath on his ear.  
“What about fangs though?” Lance’s voice lilted far too close.

  
Keith kept his tone as even as possible, “They’re retractable.”  
Lance, thankfully, leaned back, “No shit?”

  
He opened his mouth as widely as he could. Automatically, his four needle-point canines slid out further from their original position at the prompting of his jaw muscles. Out of the ‘human’ setting, Keith had been told that his fangs had a cat-like appearance. However, they were large enough to cause worry despite their delicate appearance. Even from a side view, Lance would be able to see just fine. However, he didn’t want to keep them out long enough for them to start producing venom. It always left a slightly weird bitter taste in his mouth if he didn’t feed.

  
“Holy fuck, your fangs are bigger than mine,” Lance said as he leaned in closer again. He tilted his head upside down to get a better look at Keith’s upper fangs. Lance’s soft hair brushed against his arm as he did so. Keith’s brain was barely fast enough to process the sentence before short circuiting.

  
He let his jaw click shut, shivering slightly at the feeling of his teeth sliding back into place. Keith glared down at the freeloader with no personal boundaries. “Something happen to you that I should be aware of?” he asked.

  
“Uhm.”

  
Keith sharply pulled the car over to the side of the road. Getting details of Lance’s past could be taken at any pace. But, immediate changes were more important because they indicated stress, general health, and how much time there was before the first transformation. He put the car into park before staring at the werewolf who’d jumped back over to the other side of the vehicle. “Your turn,” he said calmly, “Say aaahhh, playboy.” It occurred to him that had come out sounding way more flirtatious than the sarcastic he’d been going for.

  
Lance’s speedy reaction had him become bright red in the face all the way down to his neck. It made his dark freckles stand out even more on his face. His eyes widened to the point that Keith could hardly see the contrasting colors. The added leaning away from Keith into the passenger side door, gripping the seats, and look of shocked alarm was yet another unexpected turn of events. There was absolutely none of the expected eyebrow wiggle or lame finger guns followed by an even lamer line.  
Keith fought down the heat in his own face as he came to the conclusion that Lance was all bark and no bite when it came to flirting. Fuck, goddammit, not another dog metaphor. What the hell was up with his brain today? Why were there so many dog metaphors? Whatever, none of that mattered, he just needed to see what was up with Lance’s teeth so he could continue driving.

  
He kept his expression completely blank, opting instead to cross his arms across his chest in displeasure. His passenger seemed to relax as he pieced together that there was no intentional flirting happening. Lance eyed him suspiciously, “Do I really have to right this second?” Keith narrowed his eyes very slightly. That seemed to be enough of an answer. Lance lifted his eyes towards the roof of the truck in silent exasperation before opening his mouth wide.  
Except he gave no indication of moving.

  
Keith slowly registered that if he was going to check Lance’s teeth then he had to get into Lance’s personal space to do it. The freeloader was eyeing him smugly, clearly thinking this was a great revenge plan for the sudden stop or even the misinterpreted pickup line. Well, his friends did tell him often enough that Keith was never one to back down from a challenge. He unbuckled his seatbelt.

  
Without warning, Keith sidled up between Lance’s legs to place a hand on one of his knees. The freeloader’s pupils exploded to the size of dinner plates. It was relentlessly funny to Keith to see this obnoxious flirt have the tables turned on him. Somewhere deep in his competitive brain, he might’ve felt bad for his next move. In a business-like manner, Keith ignored Lance to lean forward and peer into his mouth.

  
The loud hammering of Lance’s heart distracted him from his dental inspection. Not even the radio music could drown out the steadily increasing tempo. It was just the vampire half of himself showing interest in a possible food source. At least, that’s what he told himself to ignore the giddy feeling he got from eliciting this kind of reaction from Lance.

  
He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Lance’s canines had taken on a distinctly lupine shape. Rather, the new canines had replaced the old ones from what he’d read in that book. It worried him. The book had also said that the fangs didn’t show up until around stage four when the body started getting higher strength and speed. Lance was barely into stage two. Out-of-sync stages were the number one sign of stress-induced early transformation. This was really fucking bad. What the shit was eating at Lance so much that he was already like this barely two days after being bit?

  
“Ouch, Keith,” Lance’s mouth shut abruptly, “can I have my knee back?” Keith had been subconsciously squeezing his knee rather hard the more distressed he had become about his discovery. Glancing over, he made his hand relax. Lance was giving him a peculiar as opposed to a panicked look.

  
“What?”

  
Lance’s brow furrowed, “I can’t decide if your eyes are a really dark blue or purple.” His tone was casual, like he was pointing out the weather or, perhaps more likely, he’d momentarily forgotten what position they were in.

  
Honestly, Keith had been subconsciously ignoring what exactly he was doing out of competitive spite. Now, a warning siren went off in his head as he noticed how warm Lance’s knee was. His entire face burned as the awareness hit him that Lance had been studying his eyes that entire time he’d played dentist. It suddenly felt like there wasn't enough air in the cab of the truck.

  
Lance, on the other hand, continued to scrutinize him as the red coloring in his own face died down. Keith couldn’t handle those two tone eyes looking at him that closely for much longer. He’d probably spontaneously combust.

  
He scooted hastily away from Lance, back into the driver’s seat. The truck was old enough that the windows needed to be rolled down manually using a crank. Keith turned it a few times to let in a warm breeze of summer air. Keith shifted the car back into drive, eased out onto the road, and tried his damnedest to look less flustered.  
“So? Which is it?” Lance asked, “Dark blue or purple?” Obviously, Keith was failing. He could hear the shit-eating grin in the freeloader’s voice. There was a gentle tug on his sleeve, “C’mon tell me, I’m curious.”

  
Keith absolutely considered himself too gay for this nonsense. He needed a diversion fast. He heard himself say in a slightly high voice, “Who cares?” That was a piss poor attempt at a distraction. It was probably going into the file in his brain neatly labeled: Keith’s Most Embarrassing Hits which I, the Hell Organ, Replay Late at Night Sometimes.

  
Lance responded with a loud, clear laugh. It was one of those laughs that he could almost feel reverberating off his own ribs by just being near it. Something about it was just simple and honest. It was unfair how pleased Keith was at causing it despite how embarrassed he was.

  
Fuck, he was screwed.

~~~~

Arusia was neither small nor large for a town. It always seemed to hover on the edge of something bigger in the making at about 50,000 people. There was no metro and the public bus was considered iffy at best. Not that it mattered considering Keith lived a half hour away and owned a car. Despite this, many people in town didn’t own a vehicle. After all, they rarely had reason to leave. It might’ve seemed odd to outsiders but to the residents it made perfect sense.

  
First, crime rates remained consistently low, the people were friendly, and there was just enough to do in town to avoid boredom. Most neighborhoods were family friendly, diverse, and community was highly valued. Keith loved it simply because it was where he’d chosen to be; something he didn’t get the luxury of until after high school. All of these were nice, normal reasons that someone might guess at as to why no one liked leaving. But, the true reason was a bit more extraordinary.  
It was one of a few dozen settlements across the country that didn’t technically exist.

  
The paranormal world had decided centuries ago that humans were dangerous. After the era of hunters rose up, magically gifted people started to create glamoured towns and cities that would safely hide supernatural folks from humans. They were perfect havens hidden in plain sight. Human eyes couldn’t register their existence even while driving right through them. They were originally invented for the benefit of races who couldn’t pass well amongst humans. However, most of the paranormal population tended to live in places like Arusia. It was just easier.

  
Of course, there were exceptions for a variety of reasons. Pidge, for example, went to school in the human world to learn more about technology. The paranormal world was still catching up on those advancements. Mostly, it was all about trying to combine magic and technology. Keith wasn’t entirely sure it was necessary because tech worked just fine without it. But, Pidge was determined to be the person who started implementing technology that could be safely utilized with magic. He wasn’t gonna argue with a determined Pidge on any day of the week. Neatly enough, her family had been supportive enough to send her to human schools from a young age for her to learn about technology and homeschooling her magic education. They were a weird yet nice family.

  
Others, like Hunk and Shiro, had human parents that raised them. So, they grew up in the human world for awhile before discovering their heritage. Then, they might do one of two things. Like Hunk, they might choose to continue to live in the human world while maintaining some supernatural connections. Or they might completely embrace it like Shiro did.

  
There were also darker reasons. Keith knew that some vampires still fed the old fashioned way by attacking humans. It was illegal due to the existence of well-stocked blood banks in glamoured cities. But, that really didn’t stop particularly old vampires who hated to be told what to do. It actually gave any vampire who chose to live outside a glamoured city a bad reputation. Unless, of course, they had a registered blood donor that lived with them. People here had started off wary of him simply for living thirty minutes away by himself. Although, that died down when they’d learned that he was half vampire and dutifully went to the blood bank.

  
Actually, he’d have to make a trip soonish now that he thought about it. Ironically enough considering his current companion, feeding time clocked in at about once a month.

  
Speaking of, Lance had been very quiet for almost too long now. Keith took advantage of his pause at a stoplight to look at him. He was pressed against the glass of the passenger window with a look of awe on his face. Not that Keith blamed him considering he’d never seen a glamoured city before. That was mostly Pidge’s fault for knocking him out on the drive up.

  
The architecture of the city was very different from human cities. Whereas humans were constantly trying to make things more modern, the residents of glamoured cities tended to take things in the opposite direction towards a more rustic aesthetic. The more curved and strange they could make the buildings look then the further the design was from humanity. This created a colorful jigsaw of buildings that could never quite fit together. At night, the old-fashioned lamp posts would light up with a rainbow of magical light that lit up the whole city. It was gorgeous in a loud, joyful way. Keith adored every inch of it.

  
It was hard to say what exactly Lance was taking in. The mid-afternoon sun was warm enough that it was pleasant but not stifling. So, there were many residents of many different species outside enjoying the summer air.

  
Ever ethereal fae wandered cobblestone streets with expressions of disinterest. Uncommonly, some of them smiled warmly at passerby with an enthusiasm their peers didn’t possess. They were most likely changelings like Shiro, fae switched with a human baby at birth. Although, the taking of human children had been illegal for centuries. Nowadays, it was done illegally or an unwilling fae parent would replace stillborn children with their own. Their culture was still a mystery to Keith since Shiro often scoffed at the mention of it. Even though he’d embraced his heritage, Shiro clearly wasn’t eager to embrace the family that abandoned him at birth. Keith didn’t blame him really.

  
The myth of witches riding broomsticks was actually very true. Although, the broomstick itself was a product of what was available at the time. Some witches stuck to tradition because it was cheaper. However, it was fairly common to see witches fly by on hockey sticks, skateboards, and even baseball bats. Bicycles remained fairly popular to this day due to the popularity of ET. Thanks to them and a few other flying folks, the sky between the tall buildings was full of people transporting themselves magically. Whether they wore a safety helmet or not depended on the individual.

  
There were plenty of shiny people and objects to catch one’s eye. More than Keith could spend a week describing.

  
None of that seemed to be what had caught Lance’s attention. He was staring intently at a group of werewolves who were smoking on the steps of the library. They were in various forms of shift, although none had taken to full wolf form due to the heat. But, there were peeks of sharp teeth set in carefree grins and pointed ears sticking up through hair. Eyes lined in wolf black framed eyes filled with mischievous humor. One let out a full-bodied laugh and slapped his friend on the back good-naturedly. A pack, obviously. Werewolves seemed to form them on instinct. A family of friends that looked out for each other.

  
Lance was looking at this group with open fascination. As Keith responded to the green light, his gaze stuck to the group as they drove away. Lance whipped around towards Keith when they were out of sight, causing him to start a bit. Lance’s expression was strangely guarded, “Hey, you saw that group right? Are most werewolves like that?”

  
“As far as I know, yeah,” Keith told him.

  
Lance’s eyes narrowed, “As far as you know?”

  
Shit. Considering what Keith suspected about Lance’s circumstances, that answer probably wouldn’t be good enough. “Well,” he started before trailing off as he thought. He really couldn’t accurately speak for the entirety of werewolves. Keith started over, “Lance, do you think I’m dangerous?”

  
“What? No.”

  
“Now, putting aside my battle of conflicting selves, do you think vampires are dangerous?”

  
“I mean, I’m not sure?”

  
Keith looked at him out of the corner of his eye, “Through my own experience, I’ve gotten to know several different vampires. There’s one here in town who runs a flower shop and dutifully goes to the blood bank.” His fingers gripped the wheel hard, “Then, there are others who hurt people because they think they have some right to. We’re not much different from humans in that regard. That’s what I mean when I say ‘As far as I know’, okay?”

  
Lance stared hard at his white knuckles, “Okay.”

  
Keith let out a breath to let flashes of bad memories leave his mind. Now wasn’t the time, there was way too much grocery shopping to be done. He pulled into the parking lot to discover it mostly full. Displeased, he opted to a spot near the back of the lot. Lance had returned to scouting his surroundings with interest until he pulled to a full stop.

  
“The only thing different about you is how much you’re going to eat me out of house and home if we don’t find some food,” Keith told his windshield, “So, let’s get some grocery shopping done, yeah?”

  
Even though he wasn’t directly facing him, Keith could still feel the warmth of Lance’s smile in response. “That sounds like a start,” he responded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember I’m easily swayed into coming back to a fic I forgot about for a year due to positive feedback, so leave me plenty of it if you enjoyed. Unlike last time, I leave no promised timeline of an update because boy that went well last time, huh?  
> I do have a solid idea on what the content of that chapter will be, I will say that in an ominous tone to passerby.


	4. Reticent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The immediate, kind response I got upon my return was so overwhelming. The MOST I’ve ever gotten on anything. So, I return again, still slightly baffled, with more content. This time, Lance is back and I’m glad to write him again. 
> 
> Also, this chapter is much shorter because I’m trying to loosen the high standards I’ve been tormenting myself with. Maybe, I’ll update sooner with that? Depends on life, which has been hectic.

Lance’s opinions of Keith had jumped about the place since he’d met him. ‘Wears too much black’ had firmly stayed on the list since hour one. But, that was really the only thing that had stayed in place. ‘Irritable’ had changed to ‘Grumpy but easy to make laugh’. ‘Kind of a cold host’ had changed to ‘Best Host Ever’ at the drop of a few muffin tins. Now, ‘bad at people’ had changed to ‘awkward but well-meaning’. Actual eye color was still marked with several question marks. It left Lance in an uncharacteristically quiet mood as they wandered the aisles of the grocery store. Keith seemed too focused on scrutinizing every ingredient he could get his hands on to notice.

While one part of his mind ran through that at a thousand bi miles per hour, another part thought hard about the group of werewolves he’d seen on the way here. They’d reminded him of his own big family despite the fangs and fur. On one hand, it left Lance relieved that he probably wasn’t going to change on a fundamental level. Despite friends’ assurances that he wouldn’t, seeing physical evidence was comforting.

However, that left his mind to ponder his attacker. Was Sendak just completely insane for a werewolf? Or, rather, did he just happen to be insane and a werewolf? He supposed his case evidence definitely supported that hypothesis. If that was the case, Lance could thank his very shitty luck for that one. Annoyed, he scratched absentmindedly at the scar hidden underneath Keith’s borrowed jean vest.

Keith’s voice broke into his thoughts, “Hey, do you wanna pick up some scar cream or lotion or something?”

Lance blinked, half-hearing the last bit, “Huh?”

Keith was staring at him, one onion in hand, with a thoughtful frown. He shrugged nonchalantly, “It just seems you itch it a lot and as long as we’re in town we could pick up some scar cream.” He dropped the onion into a thin cloth bag to join a horde of its brethren. He pointed towards the other end of the store, “Pharmaceuticals are towards that direction and lotion or scar cream should be on the end cap.”

Well, great now ‘awkward but well-meaning’ was now ‘awkward but nice and well-meaning’. Way to go, Keith! Curse him and Lance’s easily swayed heart. It was making it really difficult to keep his cool and not blow his cover.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds great, I’ll, uh, go do that,” Lance botched his way through an answer. At this point, maybe his dumb ass should just stick his head in the grocery store lobster prison and let them eat his face. He’d free them from their rubber band restraints so they could really go at their revenge against human kind. Werewolf kind?

Lance took the opportunity to make a few laps through some aisles to pull himself together. Five minutes of overthinking later, his phone started going off with Hunk’s tone: Brighter Than The Sun by Colbie Caillat. A little old lady with goat horns in an employee uniform started dancing to the tune as she stocked shelves. Lance laughed as she turned to wink at him.

Still chuckling, Lance picked up his phone, “What’s up, dude?”

“Hey, come on now you know that’s my question, man,” Hunk’s voice echoed through. Most likely, he had Lance on speaker phone while he tinkered with something that wasn’t too noisy. He always pictured a screwdriver fiddling with things even though he knew it was probably more complicated than that.

Lance frowned, taking a solid three moments to try to describe his general well-being to his best friend.

“Lance?”

“I’m thinking, Hunk, I’m thinking,” Lance responded, “I’m pretty sure I’ve experienced every emotion known to humanity in the span of 48 hours, give me a moment here.”

“Fair, take your time.”

Lance turned a corner again to see Keith laughing with the old lady from earlier. Keith’s laugh rang clearly enough down the aisle to reverberate in his chest. His heart traitorously warmed at the sound. “Ya know, Hunk, I have experienced literally the worst week of my life,” he paused, “but I think it’s getting better just by being here.”

“Ok, who are you sappily staring at while saying that?” Hunk asked, “Did you just watch a movie with Chris Hemsworth in it?”

“I wasn’t staring!” Lance hissed, escaping into the soup aisle before Keith could spot him.

“Oh, so it isn’t just Chris Hemsworth this time.”

Lance gasped scandalously, “Hunk, I love you but if you ever put ‘just’ in front of Chris Hemsworth again this friendship will go under construction by watching every movie he appears in.” He began to head for the back of the store, where Keith had pointed.

“That’s a lot of Thor, Lance.”

“How dare you forget his role as Kevin in the rebooted Ghostbusters.”

Hunk sighed, “You’re only good at sidetracking people who don’t know you, Lance.”

“Eh, worth a shot,” Lance said as he scrutinized the pharmaceutical aisle’s end cap, “I am in public at a grocery store right now though so I probably won’t say much.” Lance picked out a random bottle of lotion, something mid-range in price. He turned on his heel to leave.

“Oh c’mon, you know I hate guessing games,” Hunk whined, “You’re way better at them.”

Lance pretended to scrutinize fancy cheeses as he watched Keith browse fruit stalls. The half-vampire was eyeing over a fruit that he’d never seen in his life. It was about the size of a grapefruit, electric blue, and covered in achenes like a strawberry. Half of the fruit stalls seemed to be full of even stranger items. A third of his mind was hoping that Keith would pick up something familiar like peaches or apples. Another third was focused on watching Keith himself. The final was actually kinda interested in finding some smoked gouda among these fancy cheeses.

“Lance?”

Right, he’d been talking to Hunk.

“Sorry, got distracted by cheese.” Even though Hunk couldn’t see him, he made a show of picking up cheese. He faked a slight frown and furrowed brow. Oh yeah, super into checking out all the cheese. Clearly. He drawled, “Anyway, I can’t help that my rad detective skills make me a champion at guessing games. Especially when you were so obviously waxing for one of my coworkers.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Shay is a literal angel for putting up with you sometimes,” Hunk stated bluntly.

Lance paused, “She’s not, like, actually an angel right? Because with the week I’ve been having…”

“Oh, no no, not at all,” Hunk reassured him, “She does have a bit of giant blood on her mother’s side though. Second or third generation, something like that.”

“And you’re part cyclops right? Which is different?”

“Yeah, they’re the big ones with one eye. My moms don’t know much about my family history beyond that,” Hunk informed him, “It’s what makes me so good at handling machinery for whatever reason. Although, my math oriented brain apparently was just luck of the draw and not related to my heritage.”

“Please Hunk, you could tell me Einstein was your great grand uncle twice removed and I’d still say your smart genius brain was all you.”

“I’m just saying it out of habit, really,” Hunk sighed, “It’s kinda a common misconception on the supernatural side of the coin.”

Lance observed a small, pudgy creature put several acorns and spices into their cart. They were in a separate lane of the aisle marked ‘Fun-sized!’. Presumably, this was to keep distraction-prone larger creatures (i.e. him) from stepping on them.

“Hunk, I’ve been on that side of the coin for twenty minutes maybe,” He stated bluntly, “I don’t even know what misconceptions exist much less ones that I have. I’m just gonna be nice, mind my business, and try not to say something stupid.”

“You know what? Fair, that’s a smart plan,” Hunk fell into a companionable silence. Lance used that time to move onto the fancy salamis. No use picking out a cheese without first considering what would best compliment what. He had some class. Most of it was directed at fancy meats and cheeses but that was besides the point. Hunk spoke up again, “Okay, I think I want to take a shot at your guessing game?” He sounded slightly unsure.

“Yeah? Hit me,” Lance responded. Simultaneously, he considered a log of chorizo, something he’d probably pair with a milder cheese. Get crackers in the mix plus some wine and you had easy, romantic date food. In theory. In practice, he was notoriously bad at picking out a decent vintage that paired well. There were only so many dates that you could pawn that off as a cute quirk by getting embarrassed and pouring some grape juice to drink instead. It didn’t really matter that it occurred with different people each time. He just found the score of occurrences far too high.

“Is it Keith?” Lance fumbled with the chorizo, just barely dropping it into the intended basket. A small pixie who was flying by gave him a concerned look. He gave them a strained reassuring smile. “You okay, buddy?” Hunk said in a concerned, slightly smug tone.

“No, you’re a menace to society and I’m texting Shay right now to arrest you,” Lance said huffily. He did, in fact, have Shay’s chat on his screen. He sent a quick ‘your bf is cyberbullying me!! again!’.

“Sooooo, it is Keith,” Hunk continued. Lance could see him in his mind stopping whatever he was doing to stroke his chin like a villain.

“What’s that, Keith? Fruit? Sorry Hunk, ol’ buddy ol’ pal! Gotta go!” Lance said in a strangled tone. He hung up before Hunk could protest. His phone pinged with a response from Shay as he did.

 

**partner in stopping crime:** He’s your own nosy motivational speaker!

**getting bi:** well i just hung up on him so now he’s just nosy

**partner in stopping crime:** :o!! Rude!!!!

 

Normally, he’d want to banter with Shay for a bit but he was feeling just a tad annoyed about being so transparent. Lance shut down his phone to take a break. His friends had Keith’s number if there was an emergency.

“Did you find the lotion?”

Lance jumped about three feet in the air with a short dog-like yelp. On landing, he slapped his hand over his mouth. A burn of embarrassment flooded his face. He turned to look at a wide-eyed Keith who at least had the decency to look like he felt bad.

Lance pointed at him with a frown, “I’m gonna put a bell on you, dude, I swear to god.”

Keith blinked, “Sorry.” He held up a basket full of food, “I got everything on my list plus some Brownie brand brownie mix. It was on sale.” He grabbed the box to show to Lance.

“Is it good?” Lance looked it over. It didn’t look too special. The box was light brown with white text advertising the brand. But, there wasn’t even a picture on the box of the promised delectable baked goods.

“Nothing beats Brownie baked goods, trust me,” Keith said excitedly, “Not even homemade.”

“No way,” Lance said doubtfully.

“Yes way!” Keith grinned, waving the box about, “We’re lucky to get a box! They sell out pretty much instantly while on sale.” Lance hadn’t seen him this pumped up before. It was kinda cute that it was over brownies.

They headed towards the checkout line. It was rather long and Lance observed that every person had a box of those brownies. Some only had a box of the brownies to purchase. Nobody had more than one though. It was almost as if everyone was community-minded enough to leave some for their neighbor. Lance found it unusual but nice.

He’d just managed to feel a bit relaxed when a flash of something out of the corner of his eye made his blood turn to ice. Slowly, Lance turned his head towards the entrance. A hulking man with dark gray hair stood near the entrance to the grocery store. One side of his face was covered in angry, fresh red scars not too dissimilar to Lance’s. Except, the eye on that side was covered with an eyepatch. His face was split in a malicious grin that showed all his teeth. He was staring directly at Lance.

Sendak.

There was a beat of pain in Lance’s chest followed by a strong itch in his nose. He twitched it but didn’t dare move beyond that. He didn’t even dare breathe. Every muscle in his body was pulled taunter than a bowstring. Sendak slowly rose a hand to flutter his fingers in Lance’s direction. Then, he spun on his heel to walk straight out the front door.

Fight or flight?

Anger slowly built up in his gut. Lance felt the familiar weight of his pistol loaded with the silver bullets. He briefly thought of the cases that had led him here. The victims. The family members with their various shades of grief. Despairing. Angry. Quiet Shock. He recalled moments of frustration and endless dead ends. But, mostly, he thought of the failed arrest, one that he now understood that he would’ve never been able to complete with human laws. The bitter sting of his emotions reached his lungs. Just a breath would be the kindling he needed.

Calmly, Lance breathed in a slow breath that scorched his lungs. Next, he turned towards Keith in a mild manner, “Hey, I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick, ok?” He pointed to the ones near the entrance to emphasize his point. They were getting close to checkout. He’d have to make this quick so the dhampir wouldn’t get involved.

Keith had been in the process of pulling out his wallet so he hadn’t seen any of Lance’s miniature freakout. “Yeah, sure, I’ll meet you out by the truck,” Keith told him as he pulled out his credit card.

“Sure,” Lance said. He began to walk as calmly toward the door as he could manage. A small part of him felt a twinge of guilt at the absolute shit-storm he was about to unleash on Keith’s life through proximity. But, the majority of him was calling for an ending to this nightmare.

Another minor part of himself was feeling sick that he may have to use lethal force to resolve this. He’d never killed anyone before, not even on the job. But, it didn’t matter right now. No matter what he couldn’t let Sendak walk away from this confrontation.

The fire in his lungs began burning up his esophagus and into his nasal cavity. Lance stopped with a slight hiss. He leaned his hand against the wall by the bathroom for support. This wasn’t part of his emotional state. This was something different. He opened his mouth to take a few deep breaths but the sensation worsened.

“What the hell is this?” He muttered to himself. The burn started to fade as suddenly as it had hit him. Left behind in its place was an overwhelming amount of smells. The scent of the meat section clear across the store especially seemed to grasp at his limited attention. Lance shook his head a bit to clear it out but it clung on, clawing at the walls of his sinuses. Information from his morning reading session popped into his head.

Stage three. Heightened senses.

This wasn’t supposed to happen for at least another week. Lance grimaced at that thought. All these out of sync stages were starting to strongly hint at an earlier transformation. But, as bad as that might be, he had bigger game to hunt.

Ignoring an oncoming headache, Lance carefully exited the grocery store. The parking lot was fairly small yet Sendak was nowhere in sight. Eyeing up some of the vehicles, Lance doubted that the perp could hide underneath any of them. Behind them might be a different story. He started to turn his head to check for possible alleyways.

A strong scent of blood and engine oil hit his nose before a large hand grabbed him by the throat. Lance sputtered before the sound was cut off with a slight squeeze. Fuck. Definitely was in one of the alleyways. Sharp white teeth split in a sadistic grin entered his vision. Up close, Lance could see that Sendak was missing half of his right ear from his encounter with Rover. It was on the same side as the heavy scarring around the eye with the patch.

Lance had no idea what the missing eye was from. He knew he’d been rescued by someone after he’d passed out. But, nobody knew who since they’d basically dumped him at the nearest hospital without speaking to anyone.

A small part of him had been hoping that perhaps they’d murdered this bastard.

Sendak leaned in to whisper, “Let’s have a nice little chat before I gut you, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to turn the fun, cute grocery trip into that but also…I’m not. Leave a comment to feed me like the secret unknown horror I am! Next time features Keith Not Panicking At All!


End file.
